wealthy locals dressed. He was reading a roll of white paper spread out on the ivory-inset surface of the table, and didn’t glance up at them.
Bialin stepped around the table, leaned over and whispered to him. Finally Ardan looked up. His gaze was sharp but faintly skeptical, as if Bialin had erred in the past and his expectations were not high. In a voice so dry it was dusty, he said, “Let me see these objects.”
Bialin gestured impatiently. He looked nervous, and it was probably his head on the block if Ardan wasn’t pleased. Moon could sympathize; his nerves were jumping, but Ardan didn’t seem to know he was in the room with a shifter. He put the knife and belt down on the table, hesitated for a moment, then slipped off the wristband and set it next to them.
Ardan leaned forward, took the glass lens Bialin held ready for him, and began to examine the objects. The rough skin just below the edge of his pearly skull started to furrow with interest.
The vapor-lights hanging overhead misted in the cool damp air, and Moon waited, tracking the bead of sweat working its way down his back. With the sea kingdom woman lying stuffed in his grand hall like an animal, Moon had half-expected Ardan to look like a monster. He didn’t. He just looked like a clever man.
He’s not a monster because he doesn’t see that woman as a person, Moon thought. If he had known Moon was a Raksura, he wouldn’t see him as a person, either, just another potential collector’s item. Moon was suddenly glad he had bothered with the boots.
Ardan examined the knife, belt, and wristband for a long silent moment. Then he looked up and studied Moon, his hooded eyes thoughtful. “What are you called?”
“Niran.” Giving a fake name might be overcautious. In both Kedaic and Altanic, Moon’s name was just a random sound, meaningless. But Moon looked into Ardan’s eyes again and decided he couldn’t be too careful.
He gestured to the collection on the table. “You’re selling these things?” “No, I’m selling the information.” He would hand over the knife and the wristband if he had to, but he didn’t think a real trader would be eager to part with them either. “You’re not interested in trinkets.”
Ardan conceded that with a faint smile. “No, I’m not.” He was now clearly intrigued. “How did you know that container was a… queen’s funerary urn?”
Moon had absolutely no idea how Stone had identified it as a queen’s urn, but then it didn’t matter if Ardan thought he was lying for effect. “It was like the others we found. The scholar I was with said that’s what they were. His name was Delin-Evran-lindel, from the Golden Isles in the Yellow Sea.”
“You found other urns?”
“In an abandoned Raksuran—” Moon reminded himself not to be too exact with the terminology. “Hive.”
Ardan nodded. “And where was this abandoned hive?”
“Near the edge of the Reaches.” And Moon began to describe a journey on a flying boat to the old Indigo Cloud colony, the one that had been built into the groundling ruin straddling the river valley, but with the location transposed to the lakes they had passed before entering the forest.
As Ardan’s expression grew even more intent, Moon populated this version of the colony with scattered bones and other grisly remains, to explain why these Raksura had left all their belongings behind. Finally Ardan lifted a hand. “Stop. I wish someone else to hear this.” He called one of the guards over and spoke to him briefly. Moon caught the words, “Bring Negal.”
Bringing someone else in to listen was possibly a trick to catch Moon in a lie, to see if he changed his story with repetition, or if the details sounded memorized. He wasn’t worried; the details were all true, just arranged in different ways from how they had actually happened.
As they waited, Ardan set the knife aside, saying, “You’ll get this back when you leave here.” He handed the belt and wristband to Bialin, who handed them to his subordinate, who handed them back to Moon. Moon buckled on the belt, then slipped the band back onto his wrist, pulling his sleeve down over it. He hoped this was a good sign.
After a short time, another groundling was led into the room. He was from a different race than those common to the leviathan, with light brown skin, curly gray hair, and a trim gray beard. He wore dark pants and